


Petrichor

by selinipainter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, in which i think i can try to write fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selinipainter/pseuds/selinipainter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“’course when I pictured you half naked, it was quite differently, Clarke. But I’ll take it.”</i>
</p><p>(prompt from <a href="http://jingleblakes.tumblr.com/post/104682501158/even-better-its-raining-and-clarke-got-caught-up">here</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jingleblakes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jingleblakes).



Murphy’s law, anything that can happen, will happen.

As if Clarke had not had reason enough to hate Murphy as it was (ok, in the interest of honesty, she did not hate Murphy so much now. Not when he had been the first to volunteer going into Mount Weather way back when the 47 were still trapped in there.). But in the interest of being fair, it was Murphy who had started the clusterfuck that was her day.

She sent him to fetch the valerian roots to treat Roma’s burns. In an ironic way, he had tripped and dropped them in the communal fire on the way back. The hunters had gone out, it wasn’t like camp could spare anyone else to get more of the stuff. It would not have been so much of a problem if Will had not stabbed himself in the foot, in the process of sharpening a knife.

“… I just. I don’t want to know how that was even possible. But you should be glad that it was not an axe,” she said as she wrapped up the kid’s leg. It looked bad, not as bad as Jasper’s wound long ago. But –

“Check if there’s any valerian roots left?”

“Shit outta luck there, Clarke,” Octavia called back. Of course.

“Right, it’s still early. Octavia, make sure he stays put. I am gonna get the stuff. Give him a tea of the seaweed to hold it off for a while, yeah?”

“You might want to take someone,” she said as Clarke walked out.

“It’s just outside the fence. And make sure he stays put because god knows what more damage he is going to cause.”

It is a really nice day out, the woods are quiet and still. There’s something about the vast area of trees that go on forever and ever which she can’t quite let go. Maybe it was being in solitary for nearly a year or the fact that most of her life, it had been an endless series of walls. Maybe it’s the trees itself, she never knew they could go on and on for so long. And the endless blue skies which are not as blue anymore.

_Goddamn Murphy._

Of course, she had gone a bit too far from camp to make it back in time. (The rain is lovely though, and the smell of it is something she wants to bottle.) But it is her one good t shirt, the other being dirty and the third being the unwanted spare that she kept aside for operations.

“Jeezus, Clarke, that’s horrible. _That_ is an affront to my eyes. You are not wearing that,” Octavia pulled the shirt out of her hands.

“It’s not like I got a choice.”

“Bell’s tent, he’s got plenty of spares back from when he was being all warlord.”

“Fine… Hang on, the shirt’s not that ugly,” it was just really bloody.

Octavia waved her off, already turning back to mashing the roots into paste.

Bellamy’s tent was neater than her own, slightly. Only a little. But it was easy to find the shirts and she got lucky. There was a faded one in the colours of her favourite soccer team, blue and red stripes. Jeans were a little too big on her, but nothing a belt could not fix.

“’course when I pictured you half naked, it was quite differently, Clarke. But I’ll take it.”

Bellamy Blake had walked in on her in her underwear. In his tent. She kind of wanted to either melt in a puddle, bleed into the ground, dig a hole maybe.

Or maybe jump his bones, because a soaked Bellamy? It was doing nothing good for her mental state.

“Fuck.”

“If that’s what you want, princess,” he winked.

The second choice then, in the interest of being warm and all.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok I got inspired by the prompt, but well I hope I didn't totally trash it. i am trying to write a fic a week, and am working on a massive one for another fandom. Valerian roots are from Pottermore, but I really find them pretty and their name's pretty cool.
> 
> Also, let the record state I did try to expand on the ending. But I can't write frickle frackle (ok to be honest, I really love that term). I did my best.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> PS: I just realised there's no mention of adults. In my fantasy, I kinda dreamed that the 100 break away from the adults because I don't really like how the adults are trying to control them. And personally I would like it if they broke off. Makes it more interesting for me.


End file.
